Dust
by planet p
Summary: A Six and Peri story. Peri has a strange dream and goes to talk to the Doctor about it, but things don't go as planned. Probably odd... Actually odd.


**Dust** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _Doctor Who_ or any of its characters. I don't own _Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)_ - the lyrics or music.

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><p><em>Peri hugged the child tightly, no tears tracing her cheeks. Hugged her children: the little girl in her arms; the little one, not yet born. Her hold lessened; she was hugging too tightly. The little girl in her arms gasped desperately for breath, her eyes wide in panic. Peri stroked her hair, humming <em>The Boy Does Nothing_ - the little girl's favourite song - cheerfully. It was going to be okay. It... it had to be. Tears coursed down the child's face, streaming from her dark blue eyes. Gasping, she uttered something Peri didn't understand: another language. Yet, though the words confused her, she seemed to understand their meaning, all too well..._

Peri's eyes snapped open, she found herself gazing up at glowing stars. She was in her room in the TARDIS; she'd been dreaming. She placed a hand to her stomach, feeling strangely... bereft. It had only been a dream, she told herself. She... she didn't even know the little girl's name, had never found that out. The little girl... had been her little girl, her child. Yet, she had no children.

She sat up, mentally shaking away the feeling. _Just a dream, Perpugilliam._

In the bathroom, she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, watching herself as she did this. For a few moments, she felt troubled, and still more troubled by the fact that she didn't know why she felt troubled. Then it struck her - Oh, it was still that dream. All of that dust, that heat. _Silly thing,_ she thought, gazing at herself in the mirror, placing down the hairbrush and running a hand over her hair. No dust, clean. _It was _just_ a dream._

She shook her head at the woman staring back at her from within the mirror; the woman shook her head, too. _Silly, right?_

_Silly._

She turned away from the mirror and walked to switch on the fan, getting ready for a shower. A new day, a new adventure.

.

Peri sighed, running small, tan hands through her hair, still warm from the hair dryer, and pushed it back over her shoulder. It had grown long. She'd hardly noticed it do so; the time had passed so easily. Or uneasily.

She walked to the console room, deciding to leave her hair down. She wouldn't be able to find an elastic, anyway.

The Doctor wasn't there.

She frowned. She walked to the console, placing a hand upon its surface gently, as though in greeting; _good morning, old girl._ She wondered where the Doctor was; asked the TARDIS, in her mind. There was no reply. At least, none that she could perceive. She turned and walked out again.

Her hair had cooled by the time she reached the library; happily. She felt less flustered, everything was okay, just as it was. There was no hassle, no bustle; time was slipping through her fingers and that was okay, that was the way it went. The way it always went.

Time was a funny thing: feeling blue, time seemed to drag on - those were the worst of times. Feeling bright and full of cheer, time flew by in the blink of an eye - oh, those were the best of times! But right now, time was just... how it was, Peri thought.

The Doctor wasn't in the library, either.

She wandered along halls she'd never explored before, far beyond the kitchen, the pool. As she walked, further and further along those same halls, she begun to suspect herself lost. Forcing back panic - how very silly - her concentration started to wander...

_"Everyone dies, my little one. Everyone closes their eyes one last time."_

_"Why do they close their eyes, Daddy?"_

_"Why, tiny - so, they can open them again. Surprise!"_

_"No, Daddy, there are no more surprises when you die. You're just dead!"_

_"_Are_ you? No, darling child. Not _just_ dead. 'Just' is _just_ a word."_

_"What do you mean, father?"_

_"No one ever _really_ dies, little one-"_

_"But Mummy will die one day, won't she, Daddy?"_

_"One day, Mummy will leave us. Yes. But our love for her will live on, and she will move on. She probably won't even know-"_

_"Why does Mummy have to die, Daddy? Why does she have to leave us? Why can't she stay... just until we die, too? Why can't we... _'leave'_ together?"_

_"Oh, sweetheart, that's life. That's just life. Beautiful, treacherous life!"_

_"I don't want her to die, Daddy! When the baby comes, I want Mummy to stay, too! I want the baby and Mummy!"_

_"You odd, odd little thing. Curious little thing. We must talk more often, mustn't we. Whatever makes you think Mummy will leave, when Baby comes? Did Mummy leave when you came?"_

_"No, Daddy. So!, so Mummy's not going to die, Daddy? She'll... she'll stay with us? And _Baby_, too?"_

_"Pax."_

_"Yes, Daddy."_

_"Mummy's not going to die, honey, or else we'll be going hungry for a long, long time. Daddy's cooking isn't edible, I'm afraid. And Daddy's smiles frighten little children. Baby will never stop screaming. We'll both go deaf, and Baby will lose its voice. Let's face it: we need Mummy. If Mummy dies, we're doomed."_

_"Daddy?"_

_"Yes, sweetheart."_

_"Won't you be sad, if Mummy dies?"_

_"You?"_

_"I'll be very, very sad. But I'm asking _you_, Daddy."_

_"Yes, baby, I will be sad."_

_"Daddy, you don't look sad."_

_"Hmm? Oh, of course not. Mummy's still with us, is she not. And look at the time - time for dinner, darling! Dinner-!"_

Peri froze, snapping back to herself, abruptly. Heck! Not again! Oh bother! Where was she now? How badly had she managed to get herself lost?

"_Pax_."

She frowned. Who had whispered that? It was a few seconds before it dawned on her: her voice. _She_ had whispered it. P-Pax... That was the little girl's name. Pax. But why was she still having this dream?

She shook her head and started walking again. _Silly woman._ Tonight, she'd be hitting the sack early. No more daydreaming for her, thank you.

.

When she returned to the console room - it actually hadn't been very hard finding her way back - the Doctor was humming to a song she didn't know and couldn't hear - playing in his mind, only - and seemed to be up to his usual tricks, playing with the console, again. How the TARDIS found all this constant interfering, this constant tinkering, Peri really wondered.

She stood back and watched for a while, but something struck her as distinctly odd. The Doctor was humming, but he wasn't happy. He wasn't sad, either. The Doctor was usually one of the two, but, today, it seemed he was neither. It was... strange to see. What exactly _was_ that song he was humming?

She sighed, patting a hand on her leg, to give the Doctor some forewarning before strolling to his side and eyeing the console for a moment. She moved her eyes up to his. "Doctor, could I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He hadn't even looked at her, offered a friendly _good morning_; had merely stopped humming.

"The TARDIS translates other languages for us, doesn't... she?"

"Hmmm."

"Well, do you think there's any language she mightn't be able to translate? Any that mightn't be... included in her software package?"

The Doctor met her eyes sharply. "Software! Software, Perpugilliam! Soft-"

"Doctor, you're getting worked up over nothing. Again. Could you just... answer my question, please? Is it possible, Doctor? Is that possible? Do you... know?"

The Doctor refrained from a scowl - Again! - and considered the question, one hand on the console as he leant against it. "I suppose so," he replied, finally, no less unhappily. "Where does this come from, all of a sudden?" he asked, with suspicious, narrowed eyes. Distractingly, he hummed _Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps_, his eyes locked with hers, the expression in them deadly serious.

Peri felt suddenly like laughing, or asking if this was some new interrogation technique he was trying out on the "alien spy". Oh, that was _so_ old. Did he not know that? "Just a dream I had," she said, vaguely.

"_'Will I be handsome, will I be rich?' I tell them tenderly-_ A _dream_, Perpugilliam Brown! A dream! This is your all-_important_ query! A _dream_! I am not some, some... foolhardy con-artist! And I do not have limitless time to be wasting on such ridiculous, childish quandaries, either!"

She rolled her eyes. "Poor Doris!" she sighed, putting up her hands and stepping away from the console.

The Doctor placed a hand on her arm. "You didn't recognise the language, then? It didn't seem even vaguely, _remotely_ familiar to you?"

"No," she answered, resisting the urge to brush his hand from her arm and walk out.

"Do you recall what was said? Even just a little?"

Strangely, she found, she did. With crystal clear clarity. She repeated the words.

The Doctor's hand left her arm, his expression suddenly closed.

It was so unlike him to hide his feelings over anything that it instantly had Peri frowning, seriously wondering what was up. What was going on in that Time Lord head of his? "What is it, Doctor? What does it mean?"

He tossed his head. "Wouldn't know," he snapped irritably. "I suppose you've yet to take breakfast. Mmm. Doesn't sound like any language I've ever heard of, and I've _heard_ a few; trust me. You're likely just... hallucinating. Low on energy, I'd say. Best pop off and grab something to eat, I say, or it'll be fairies next! It's always fairies with you girls! Fairies, unicorns, dragons! Off with you, girly!"

Peri crossed her arms, annoyed. "I wasn't hallucinating, Doctor! I was _dreaming_!"

"I see. There's a difference, then?"

Peri's mood flared up. She whipped up a hand- The Doctor caught her wrist before she could get very far with that venture.

"You humans," he muttered.

"You Time Lords!" she growled. "You never take anyone seriously but yourselves! You're so up-stuck!"

The Doctor let go of her wrist and tossed his head in the direction of the interior door, the way of the kitchen. "Off you go."

"Bugger you!" she scowled and stormed off angrily.

The Doctor settled back against the TARDIS console, sighing gently. He didn't understand this at all, but he liked it even less. Someone had been speaking Gallifreyan in Peri's dream? What could that be about? Surely, it couldn't be anything good, he thought. He hummed _Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)_, for really no reason. (A song he remembered from his childhood; something Plumura had hummed back in Pandora. Good old Pandora, eh!) He suppressed a shiver. Best just to forget about it for now, he thought. He still had the TARDIS to content with, the problem with the console malfunctioning to be solved.

.

Rew frowned darkly. "You're not right!" he spat, getting up in the other boy's face.

The six-year-old didn't step back, didn't shift his eyes from the older boy's. Eventually, Rew stepped back slightly; couldn't stand being so close to the freak! Disgusting!

"What are you staring at, freak?" he hissed. "We all know it's true! You're not just Fifth, you're Half-muck! They should throw you out, you know. Leave you on the surface to perish! That would be the _right_ thing to do. The _kind_ thing to do!"

The other children standing around them nodded in agreement. He was Half! He deserved the Surface! He had no right breathing _their_ air, eating _their_ food!

Spurred on by the others' support, Rew stepped back up to the boy, gripping his arms suddenly and shaking him.

The boy didn't make a sound.

"Say it's true! Say you're rubbish! Junk! Nothing but something to be stomped on, to be crushed underfoot! Say it! You filthy Half! _SAY_ IT!"

The group of onlookers was cheering loudly now. Rew's eyes were wide in his face, manic. The crowd was cheering for him!

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm, sending a thrill of heat through it, not scorching, but disarming, and he released his hold on the despondent little boy. The child remained as unaffected as ever.

Hearts beating furiously, Rew now noticed that the group had disbanded, had run off and left him. Those traitors!

Catching sight of the young woman holding his arm he suddenly ripped his arm from her grasp and ran, too. The witch! Damn it, the witch had _touched_ him! _Branded him!_

He didn't stop running until he could no longer see the witch and the stupid Half she'd come to defend. Tears blossomed in his eyes. Did this mean he would die? He was too _young_ to die! That evil witch! She should have been left on the surface with that brat Half! The both of them deserved to die!

"Haven't I told you time and again, child? Haven't I? What's wrong with you? Why can't you even listen to me? You never take me seriously." She wasn't angry, just tired. Upset that he'd come so close to harm. At the hands of their own people, no less. Those intolerant wretches! "When I say stay indoors, you stay! Do you hear me, Vivian?"

She took his arms in her hands, but not harshly, as the other boy had. She didn't shake him, but tried to reach his eyes with her gaze, tried to get him to notice her. He didn't seem to register that she was there. She let go of his arms, then lead him back to their quarters.

"Oh, Vivian, what am I ever going to do with you? If only Het hadn't left us!" Het had been her older sister, before she'd been put to death for treason against the hierarchy. She had been Vivian's guardian first, but the task had fallen to Plumura after her death. Sometimes, she wondered if she was really up to the task. He was such a strange child.

She sat the boy down at the single table and began setting about preparing a meal for the both of them. She'd have preferred potato to what they had, then she could have made mash potato, but potato wasn't readily available on Gallifrey. She'd only ever had it once, and that had been years ago, when she'd been a girl herself, before Vivian had ever been born.

One of the Lords had come to Pandora, to the great Five undercity, and he'd brought potato with him. Back then, Vivian's mother had cared for them. She'd been no more than three, herself. She still didn't know why the Lord had come. She often wondered about that. Had he been Vivian's father?

But thoughts like that were counterproductive, she told herself. Heresy. So she set them from her mind, once more, and concentrated on the task at hand: _dinner_.

Things would get interesting when the boy hit eight, but, for now, they had today, they had a life of poverty and underclass enslavement to navigate. It was never easy, rarely satisfying, always challenging. But it was her life, _their_ life. It was all she knew.

At the table, the little boy opened his hand, revealing a tiny, dusty-coloured worm-like creature. The creature was hardly moving, but it was alive. It was alive. Later, he would set it free. It had to live its life, of its own accord. He'd have liked to kept it, to be able to pat it, to watch it, anytime he felt like a bit of company, any time he was lonely; he'd have liked to be its friend, but they were completely different animals. They couldn't connect on that level. So it would have to go free. He would not harm it, he would not keep it. It wasn't fair.

He gave it one long last look and dropped it into his pocket. He would sneak out and leave it somewhere far away, somewhere where the other children wouldn't find it and torture it again, somewhere where it hopefully wouldn't be killed.

He felt happy. He was sure he'd done the right thing. Even if he'd upset the other children, he'd done the right thing. And they didn't know it was alive; they didn't know he'd helped it get back its tenure. He was lucky. If they'd known, it would be him they'd be calling "witch" next. That, he knew, wouldn't have been good.

He didn't show the creature to Plumura, either. After Het's death, he didn't think it would be right for him to do so. Plumura would be hurt that something so small, so seemingly insignificant should be given a second chance and yet her sister was denied even the chance to live out her life to its first end.

.

"See here, child-"

Peri met his eye with coldness in her own eyes. She turned away from him, taking her bowl of muesli with her.

"Peri, would you just hear me ou-" A sudden stabbing pain in his head cut his sentence short and sent his vision swimming. He sunk into a nearby chair and held his head, refraining from a gasp. It wouldn't help the pain, it would just alert Peri to the fact that he wasn't feeling his best, then she'd rush over, all concern, and his head would only hurt more.

Besides, it would only put her off her food. And he didn't want to do that. He always felt better when he saw her eating something. It reminded him that she wasn't so different from him, that she needed the same things he did: food, shelter, friends. And she was such a tiny sliver of a thing...

The pain in his head subsided as quickly as it had come and he relaxed a little, finally letting his hands fall from his head. He swallowed a heavy sigh.

Peri stood up to refill the apple juice in her bowl and sprinkle on some more seedless red grapes.

"Peri-"

"Save it!" she snapped.

"Peri, I've come to... to apologise."

"'Apologise' isn't a word that exists in your vocab, Doctor," she scowled.

He stood up, drawing himself up properly, and walked around the table. He stopped in front of her and tried not to make it look as though he was looking down on her. "Perpugilliam Brown, I apologise for my earlier behaviour. I was rude and hurtful to you. It was wrong of me. Admittedly, you caught me off guard. My interest was firmly concentrated on the TARDIS. I resented your intrusion. Still, I know I've been... inconsiderate. I'm sorry for that." He took the bowl from her hands and placed it down on the table behind her, and took out the chair beside hers, sitting down in it. He picked up her hands, trying not to let the dirty look she was giving him deter him. He looked her in the eye and said, "Tell me. How can I make up for this misdemeanour?"

She was tempted to bite back, "You can't!", but she resisted. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, also. "A serious answer wouldn't kill you," she scowled darkly, instead.

"No, it wouldn't. But I'm afraid my answer will be the same as before. The language you heard spoken in your dream is not one that I am familiar with, I'm sorry to say. I can't help you there, unfortunately. It's not even vaguely familiar."

Peri pulled her hands from his. "I knew you'd be like this!" she spat, without knowing herself quite where that venom had come from. "That's you, all over! Still see me as the alien spy! You complete _jerk_!" She turned and fled the room, leaving the Doctor to stare after her in confusion and shock.

He... he didn't see her as an alien spy. That wasn't how he'd ever seen her, at all. Well, discounting the times he hadn't been himself. In fact, he saw her as a very honest person, a very decent person, concerned with the welfare of others and not only herself. She was a little brash, a little manic, and her voice was akin to his coat - hard to digest, at times - but he... he didn't hate her, he didn't suspect her of an ulterior motive, he actually... He actually cared for her, in his own way, he thought. What was more, he'd been impressed with her repetition of the Gallifreyan words. She'd got them down perfectly. He'd been proud of her, in a way.

He just hadn't been able to bring himself to be honest with her.

_She's right_, he thought sadly. _You _are_ a jerk._

He repeated the words she'd told him and wondered what they could mean in the context of her dream. _I want father._ Did Peri miss her father, her family? And he'd been so cold and insensitive to her, so petty? He knew what it felt like to miss home, to miss those he'd once cared for so deeply, to feel... somehow torn from your own life, your own existence, abandoned, adrift, in a unfamiliar, confusing world. Suddenly, he felt down.

He couldn't go after Peri. He couldn't even eat. He only wanted to go to his room and lie down, but he couldn't even motivate himself to do that. He was so pathetic. Pathetic. That was all he was. He was pathetic. He would only ever be pathetic.

_Peri, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be more like him, more like... me._ Disgusting Half! He couldn't even get _regeneration_ right! He didn't even deserve it! He didn't deserve to be alive!


End file.
